


I Walked Alone. Until We Met.

by pamelaroseee



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, SteveTonyFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:03:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamelaroseee/pseuds/pamelaroseee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Steve is house sitting for Sam and Tony doesn't like all the noise he makes, but there's a reason for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Walked Alone. Until We Met.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrinceMalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceMalice/gifts).



> This is my gift to prince-malice for stevetonyfest who said that they liked enemies turned lovers so what’s better than squabbling neighbors in a modern AU setting? I’m a sucker for them hating one another and bickering before falling for one another. Enjoy!

“Don’t forget to feed Lucy at least four times a day,” Sam said as he pulled his suitcase next to the other by the doorway.

“Four times? Sure she doesn’t need to cut back a little?” Steve asked, looking over his shoulder at the cat who was stretched out over the carpet with her legs and arms extended at her sides, stomach inflated and wide like a loaf of French bread.

“Do not talk about her like that, okay? She’s very insecure about her weight,” Sam snapped with serious eyes.

Steve couldn’t hold back a laugh. A slow chuckle came out as he shook his head at the man. “Right,” he mumbled, walking around the apartment to access the place. Sam was leaving out of town for the holidays and as much as Steve wished he would be doing the same, he had no family to go home to so, instead, he offered to watch his friends apartment for the remainder of the month. Running a hand along the back of the couch, Steve turned around to look back at his friend. “Anything else I should know before you miss your flight?”

Sam looked at his watch, bag in hand as he whispered out, “Shit!” Looking around, he shrugged finally. “Nah, I think that’s about it. Try not to keep the door unlocked, I don’t trust any of these people. Especially this old lady next door, she looks like a prime example of a kleptomaniac, I swear.”

Steve laughed, before walking over to his friend. “Go then, I got it covered.”

“Thanks, man. Call some Chinese or something. Try to have a good Christmas, alright?” Steve nodded. Sam took a deep breath, pulling the other man into a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

Steve nodded again. Sam gathered his bags and went out the door.

The quiet was odd, strangely enough. Steve lived in an apartment with noisy neighbors, yelling bums outside, and cats that were in heat at least once a week. He could afford more, but then again, he liked his little dingy place. Looking down at the exhausted fat cat, Steve smirked as she looked up to her new temporary master.

“Just you, me, and Captain Jack for a little while, girl.”

The cat replied with a tired meow. With a smirk on his face, Steve prepared himself for an UNeventful Christmas break.

/////////////////////

The one bedroom apartment was the literal definition of a bachelor pad. There wasn't a single ounce of estrogen in the place, nor was there any food. The fridge was filled with condiments, old pizza, and some other things that Steve was more than sure that didn't even belong in the kitchen.

"Lucy, I'm off to.get food. Want anything?" He called out as he headed for the door.

The cat was in the same position, paws pointed outward as she stretched across the rug.like a hog ready for harvest. She purred for a second, moving her legs together to only roll over to one side and let out a final meow as if to tell the man "no".

Steve shrugged, grabbing his coat and scarf as he opened the door. "Your call. Don't beg me for fries when I come back either," closing the door he went straight for the stairs. Not even down the first flight, he heard someone yelling from his floor.

"Sam Wilson, I've told you about slamming doors," the person started as they approached the rail, "you think you're the only person in this fu-" he stopped, realizing Sam wasn't Sam at all. "Who are you?"

"I'm Steve, Sam's best friend. Sam went out of town and I'm-"

"Don't care. Okay, look, Steve, don't slam the door. It's rude, you're being highly inconsiderate of others, 's. Elmira next door has glass pieces that are ruined when people slam doors. So,, don't slam the door."

Steve felt ... upset, really. His eyes squinted as he accessed the situation. "Well," he started before he fully understood what he needed to say, "I didn't know that. Though, you could've approached that in a better manner, quite frankly," the other man looked surprised, eyes wide and mouth gapped open as Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I won't slam the door, I get it. Have a nice night," Steve said as he continued down the stairs. He felt the anger boiling in his veins, the irritation slithering under his skin but instead, he wrapped his hand stitched scarf tight around his neck as he stepped into the cold night air.

////////////////////////

A couple of days had passed and Steve had forgotten the entire experience.

Taking advantage of Sam's extensive workout room, Steve exercised until his heart's desire.

The dumbbells were on a rack by the wall. The room was covered in a blue mat the apartment the blow of weights being dropped unto.them repeatedly.

Steve was shirtless, dressed in only sweatpants and shoes, he pumped iron for what felt to be hours. The weights slammed against one another a time or two as he adjusted them. He dropped a few.on accident, missing his own toe by half an inch on one occasion.

After 20 reps of benchpressing, he heard a surprising hard knock on the door.

There was a small gnaw at the back of his mind that it was the neighbor, but something else told him it'd be someone looking for Sam. His instinct rang truth when he slung open the door to.find a pestered neighbor with a fist ready to be waved around.

"What is it now?" Steve asked in a peeved tone.

There was sweat dripping from every crevices of his body. There was the sweat on the side of his forehead that ran down his to his jaw. There was sweat coming from his neck that ran down his chest until it met with the waistband of his pants. Then there was the sweat on his arms, not dripping or trailing but just simply making him glisten under the poor fluorescent lighting of the hallway.

Tony felt the air drying out his wet tongue. His jaw was practically hanging, wide open for whatever to fly in and make a nest.

“I-” He quickly said, pulling from his haze, “I was wondering what the-”

“Noise was, I know, I was lifting weights and had to change some out. If you don’t mind-”

“No,” Tony said, forcing his eyes to look up at his face for once. “I don’t. Sorry, you can go back to doing what you were doing,” he said before walking into the doorframe.

Steve flinched as Tony rubbed his face a bit. Then, just like that, he was looking over his shoulder a time or two before slipping back into the darkness of his apartment. There was a sense of relief in his chest, a bit of worry too, but as he stepped back inside, he couldn’t help but to smile.

///////////////////////

Each day there was a new argument. Once, they bickered about trash. Steve hadn't sorted the plastics and papers correctly and the neighbor, who he learned was simply called Stark, gave him and earful about it. Then there was the debate on how loud Steve sung when he was in the shower. Due to the floor plan of the apartment, Stark's bedroom was planted next to Sam's bathroom which meant that whenever music was played, he heard every small tune. Steve, though, couldn't dare bathe without singing his favorite tunes.

"All I'm asking you for is to not scream at the top of your lungs like you're some crazed lunatic," Stark slightly pleaded as he stood in the opening of Sam's door.

Steve threw his hands in the air. "For all you know, I am! Jesus, can you give me a little space here? I'm looking after my friends place for a few weeks, alright? I didn't sign up to have you rip me a new one every time I bump into a table and yell too loud."

Stark's nostrils flared as he looked at the exasperated man before him. "I've lived in this building for a long time now, alright? I don't care why you're here or how long you're here, just keep it down."

With his cheek flushed with red, Steve yelled as he slammed the door with all his might.

////////////////////////

"Oh yeah, Stark. He's an asshole," Sam said dryly.

"You're telling me," Steve mumbled. "I just wish he would've talked to me like a human being and not some kind of animal."

He was so bothered by the man. The way he made his blood boil and his skin itch with irritation and annoyance. Yet, strangely enough, he couldn't stop seeing his face. His brown eyes that looked black under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, his broad shoulders and toned muscles that were decorated in pulsing veins every time they argued. He tried not to look at him the way he did but Steve couldn't help but notice that for a man in his forties, and for someone to be so annoying, he was rather good looking and it all just made him even more upset.

"He does that. He used to be in the Army or something, I heard. He's as old as dirt so he's one of those 'get off my lawn' types," the two men laughed, "just ignore him. He's a lonely man who loves being a pain in the ass."

Steve hummed as he thought about it all. "Well, I'll be too busy getting wasted with Lucy and watching ESPN all night long to care about him. Probably finish the rest of my time getting food delivered and sleeping on the floor trying not to snore too loud."

"Yo, text me the scores. My family's on the way over and grandma won't let me change from the cooking channel."

"You should wrestle her over the remote. Make the trip worth something. How many people can say they wrestled grandma on Christmas?" Steve couldn't stop laughing, stuffing his face with cookies another neighbor had given him for the holiday.

Sam coughed out a few laughs while someone in his background barked out directions. "I'll take a video. Gotta go. Hey, don't give stark a heart attack in my absence."

Steve chuckled. "Alright, call me later."

Just as Steve was about to hang up, Sam eagerly yelled, "Wait!"

Steve paused, leaning his ear closer to the phone. "Yeah?" He asked, an eyebrow raised as he froze from what he was doing.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."

Steve smiled. "Merry Christmas, Sam," he said in return before ending the call.

It was sad, really, how alone he was at the happiest time of the year. He thought about all the other people in the world who didn't have anyone to share it with, thought about all the people he wish he could've been sharing it with. He thought about orphans, about homeless people on the street, he even thought about how throughout the week of fighting with the most annoying neighbor on the planet, even Stark was alone. It didn't take away how bothersome the man was but it made Steve feel a bit sorry for him, as well as himself.

Steve knew he'd been a pain in the ads himself, being defiant and slightly rude to the man who just wanted some peace and quiet for the holiday. Instead, Steve was singing even louder, watching the TV at an even higher volume than before, and slamming every door every chance he got.

Bucky would've made him say sorry by now. Bucky would've tackled him to the ground and forced him to write a half-decent apology letter or twisted his wrist and forced him to go over and say sorry. But he wasn't around to do that anymore. He was gone and Steve was ultimately alone on the happiest day of the year feeling sorry for himself and the mean ass next door neighbor.

"Fuck me," Steve said as he pulled himself from the couch. He had to apologize. Everything inside of him was forcing him to be a good person in this moment and he knew that if he didn't do it, he'd ultimately be disappointed in himself.

Headed for the door, he grabbed his last remaining beers and headed for the door.

Stark was standing on the other side. Steve was slightly startled, jumping a bit as he noticed that he and the other man had the same idea in mind.

"Oh, were you going somewhere?" Stark asked as he pointed his thumb behind himself, his voice more worried than his usual angry tone.

Steve shook his head, feeling the sudden rush of nervousness squirming in his stomach. "No, I was," he looked down then back at the man, "I was coming to see you. To say sorry about being a pain in the ass for the last couple of days. You don't even live here and I've been giving you shit for no reason. I was gonna bring a few beers and see if we could make peace?"

Stark laughed a bit, running his fingers from the corner of his mouth to around the outline of his bottom lip. "Same here, actually. Figured that since you didn't leave, you were alone and maybe we could call a truce."

Steve smirked, still a bit nervous as he looked down and around before realizing that they were still at the door. "Come in, come have a seat then. I was watching the game."

"I passed on football this year, the Bears are playing and I'm not a fan of watching train wrecks."

Steve sat the beers back down on the table as he fell into the cushions of the couch. "How dare you," he replied with heavy sarcasm.

"The Bears haven't been any good since Michael Jackson got his first surgery," Stark replied as he sat down on the couch as well.

Steve was quiet, looking from the corner of his eyes before saying, "That may be right, but I'm an optimist. They'll be back to their prime one of these days."

Stark laughed, cracking open a beer before leaning back into the couch. "Why aren't you out partying it up? You're young and full of enough energy to stay up all night getting drunk."

Steve chuckled lightly. "Not exactly my thing, really. I," he rubbed his neck, "I don't like to go out on holidays. I uh, lost a friend of mine some time ago when we were out on the fourth one year. I don't really like crowds too much anymore since then so I stay in, away from busy streets and stuff."

"What happened to him? If you don't mind."

Steve shrugged. "Drunk driver. We took a cab home, luckily, but the cab got hit by this car and the driver had a broken neck, I broke my collarbone but they smashed up his side pretty good and internal bleeding was what done it," he ran a hand over his mouth.

"Shit, sorry to hear."

"I'm fine. Been a few years now," Steve grabbed a beer and cracked the lid off. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'm just an asshole. Retired vet. And divorced. So, basically I lost my damn mind too many times and ... he left me."

"PTSD?" Steve asked curiously.

"Yup," Stark said after swallowing a sip.

Steve thought about their fights over the noise and how now it all made sense. "Oh," was all he could say.

Stark waved a hand, pushing aside the topic but understanding what the younger man meant. "I kinda like Christmas alone, though. Nobody to buy gifts for, no tree to put up, no lights to put up, no need to sit through Christmas music if I don't want to."

Steve raised his drink. "I can toast to that."

Stark did the same. Sipping the beer, he looked over at the television for only a quick second before looking back at Steve. He stared at the man for a minute, examining his face and body before forcing himself to look away.

"You don't ever get tired of being alone?" Steve wondered.

Stark shrugged, his lip flicking over his bottom lip as he thought about an answer. "No, not at all." Steve felt taken aback by the answer. Stark looked over from the corner of his eyes before letting out a noise. "That's a lie. I do, I really do but it's tough dating. I can't do the Tinder thing or the Grindr thing, I like actually sitting and getting to know someone."

Their eyes fleeting all over the room until the pair found one another.

Steve broke it first, clearing his throat and readjusting in his seat. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Bullshit. You're young and beautiful and women would crawl for miles just to have a minute in the same room with you."

"That's nice but I don't need someone dying to stare at me, wanna be around someone who can carry a conversation and doesn't have to text every second of the day to let the rest of the world know they're alive. I want someone to relax with, share a moment with. Man or woman."

Stark's face was stricken with something other than displeasure for once. "For once we see common ground on something. I like the way you think, Steve."

The smile was small at first, growing bigger until he finally noticed how.much he was grinning. Steve calmed down a bit, sipping a little from the bottle before replying, "I like the way you're not yelling at me right now, Stark."

"Tony," he corrected.

"Tony," Steve repeated.

The said nothing for a while. Steve finished his beer, watching the game play out while Tony looked elsewhere.

"I think we should do this again some time," Steve proposed.

Tony grinned a bit. "Maybe with food, some wine, and anything but the Bears playing."

"Alright, you insult them again, I'm gonna have to slap you," Steve laughed out, looking over at the older man.

Tony looked at Steve, still grinning with a quiet laugh. "Sure you got the patience for a damaged old man like me? The baggage is worse than the night terrors."

Steve shrugged. "We all got baggage. Trust me, I'll let you know when I can't handle it. I've been fighting with you for a week straight now, I think I can handle whatever else you throw at me."

Tony leaned over, pulling the man by the arm into his embrace as he kissed his lips. Tony's mouth tasted like whiskey and beer, a combination that seemed deadly. With a hand on Steve's cheek and the other wrapped around his wrist, Steve fell into the moment, wrapping his own hand around the older man's neck as well.

"Couldn't stop thinking about doing that since you opened the door," Tony said into his lips.

Steve laughed, their faces only centimeters away from one another. "Wish you would've."

"I'm glad you let me spend Christmas with you, Steve."

"Me too, Tony. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

 

 


End file.
